Meditation
by sweetbabymomma
Summary: Claire's fantasizing about Sylar


**Title: **Meditation

**Author: **sweet_babymomma

**Word Count:** 923

**Pairing:** Sylar/Claire

**Rating:** NC-17

**Summary: **Claire uses a sex toy while fantasising about Sylar.

**Warnings: **sex (obviously!), sex toys, masturbation

**A/N:** written for Sylaire Kink Meme.

Thanks to the amazing **cameroncrazed** for betaing this mess.

She was not sure how it started.

She knew _when_ though. Gretchen caught her off guard, leaning over and capturing her lips in a kiss that was anything but friendly, and for a tiny little moment, when Claire closed her eyes, she had a mental picture of Sylar kissing her like he meant it.

Claire felt appalled. Disgusted. And yet so turned on she got lost in the feeling completely. So, when it was over she needed a moment to realize where she was and who the hell that hairy chick was.

"I have a crush on you," said the girl, looming over her and looking at her with shiny eyes.

Strangely enough, this fantasy didn't make Claire disgusted with herself.

***

She thought these thoughts would fade away, but they didn't, turning into obsession instead. Whenever she saw a happy couple kissing on TV to the sounds of music, she immediately imagined herself in place of the female lead, in the arms of a man who was anything but a romantic hero. And who was as dead as a doornail, hello!

One day, when she caught a glimpse of "Titanic" and pictured herself on the bow of the ship with arms wide open, she understood very clearly that she absolutely needed to talk to someone about it. Instead, however, she logged on to an online sex shop, where she saw _that _picture. The girl in it looked exactly like her and the man kneeling between her legs was tall and dark. Beside them a huge pink vibrator was pictured, along with the words "Feels so natural". She probably shouldn't have used her mom's new boyfriend's credit card to pay for it.

***

The toy turned out to be huge. She never even imagined that ten inches could look that scary.

Clutching it in her hand, she closed her eyes and laid back and there he was – naked and with that smug grin across his lips. His hair was longer than she remembered, his bangs falling across his forehead.

"Harder," Sylar said huskily. "I'm not that fragile, you know?"

He looked surprisingly lively for a dead guy.

Claire moved her hand up and then down his length, and his head fell back, lashes fluttering across the top of his cheekbones. He looked so _real _thatshe forgot how to breathe.

"So good," he muttered almost incoherently when she sped up her ministrations. And then he leaned over and kissed her.

"I want you," he whispered, propping himself on his elbows above her. "Always have".

Maybe he wanted an answer. Maybe she owed him one, but she couldn't say a word. So she raised her hips to rub against him instead.

One of his hands cupped her breast. He flicked the pad of his thumb across her nipple and then lowered his head to suck on it. He was taking his time and as much as Claire hated to admit it he was good at what he was doing.

Suddenly Sylar lifted his head to look at her.

"We should have done this earlier," he said. "In that damn hotel. Or even before that, at Primatech. Everything could be different now, Claire".

She finally found her voice.

"I still hate you."

She did, alright? She hated him for what he's done – to her and to the people she loved. And hated him for dying on her.

He bit on her earlobe.

"I'll make you scream my name anyway."

He pushed in – not as deep as Claire expected, but she still froze in horror. So, was this really happening? Then why didn't she want to push him away?

Slowly he pulled out and then slammed in again, deeper this time, but obviously wanting more. She was tight – she knew she was – and he was so much bigger than her, it seemed impossible that he'd fit in. Sylar lifted her leg to change the angle and tried again, pushing hard until he finally was all the way in.

Claire let out a shaky breath. She never even realized that she held it all this time.

"Don't you like this?" he asked, resting his forehead on hers. "Don't you want more?"

She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of being filled. She grew up thinking that her body was her temple. Strangely enough, in that very moment she didn't feel invaded. Girls at school always told her that making out was better than sex, but right now she could have objected to that – if there was any point in doing so. But she only managed one word.

"More."

He complied eagerly. Before Claire knew it she was moaning her way to her climax. Sylar, of course, gave her a lift, shoving his hand between their joined bodies to rub her clit.

He lowered his head and she felt his hot breath on her ear.

"Say my name," he demanded.

"Sylar."

"Again."

"Sylar!"

Snapped out of her dream by her own scream, Claire opened her eyes. She was in her room in the dorm – and not alone.

"Claire?" Gretchen sat on her bad, trying to locate her roommate in the darkness. "What is it? A nightmare?"

Still not recovered from a body shaking orgasm, she tensed her inner muscles – just to make sure that her sex-toy was still there.

"It's okay, Gretch," she said, turning her back to her friend. "It was actually a good dream."

A familiar smirk raised one corner of Gretchen mouth, but it was to dark for Claire to see it.


End file.
